The Street Games
by cloudsongs
Summary: Katniss Everdeen has lost hope and rediscovers the vocation of local Street Walker. Stealing needy husbands and rich men is a hard life, but will Peeta have the ability to take her away from that world? Pre-Hunger Games
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Katniss Everdeen has lost hope and rediscovers the vocation of local Street Walker. Stealing needy husbands and rich men is a hard life, but will Peeta have the ability to take her away from that world?

Chapter 1

Prostitution is the act or practice of providing sexual services to another person in return for payment. In other words, that's how I survive. If that is my only excuses for my sins, so be it. At least I'm alive and well-fed. At least my sister has the strength to get up from her bed every day. And until I've passed my eighteenth birthday, this is the only way to avoid tesserae. The only way to avoid the Hunger Games.

After my father's untimely death, my mother's whole life collapsed on itself. While she stared at the blank wall beside her bed, I sold our furniture, our worthless jewelry, and Prim's baby clothes. It came to the point where I had to beg in the freezing cold rain. _Beg._ If my father saw me like this….

I lean against the trashcan outside the Mellark Bakery and clutch the muddy clothes to my chest. Why couldn't I be a little older? I reach for the rim of the trashcan to hoist myself up. I peer over the edge only to find it black and empty, all the way to the bottom.

"Get off my property, you Seam brat!" I hear a screeching voice say. "Get!" I try to turn and walk back in the direction of the Seam, but instead stagger backwards into an apple tree. It's branches hang low and barren over my head like an omen. The mud splatters on me, my skin, my clothes, my merchandise. I haven't eaten for so long that I feel that my stomach is touching the line of spine.

 _I can't make it. I'm going to die._

Through the loud rain, I hear the Mrs. Mellark scream again, a loud _smack_ following after. I catch a few words like "stupid" and "pigs". I lift my eyes tiredly to the commotion. A boy with a stocky build and medium height steps out from the door with two loaves of bread, blackened at the ends. There's a long red welt on his left cheek and I can tell that he's trying hard to keep his eyes dry. He rips one burnt end of the bread and tosses it to the subdued pigs in the pen. I flinch when the pigs begin to run around, fighting for the piece. I want that bread.

When I look back, I see two bright pools of blue staring at me. His mouth is parted, as if he wants to say something to me. _Say it,_ I think. _Tell a starving, dying girl to get out._ But instead, I am surprised when he closes it and chucks the loaves in my direction. The land on the muddy ground in front of my feet.

I glance back at him. _What is he doing?_

He nods at the bread and pointedly looks at me.

 _Is that for me?_ He doesn't answer. He turns around and walks back into the bakery, a string of screeches resuming the second he enters. I grab the two loaves quickly, stuffing it in the confines of my father's jacket and walk back to the Seam. Prim is eating tonight. I am eating tonight.

That was when I see the three young women standing in front of a door. They huddle under their clothes, and by the looks of them, they are most likely seventeen or eighteen. One girl gingerly knocks on the wooden door while the other two girls move closer together.

The door smoothly opens to reveal an older man with few strands of silvery hair combed sideways over his unusually red face. The girls make a motion to step in, but the man coldly raises his hand in a stopping motion. He gently wraps a thick hand around the middle girl's shoulders and pulls her in. He leers at the other two women, whose shoulders are half-slumped, half-relaxed, and shuts the door behind him.

It takes me at least two minutes to remember that he is Cray, the Head Peacekeeper. In the one time I've been to the Hob to purchase a piece of meat smaller than the size of my palm. We were able to ration that meat for at least four days. I saw him buy a bottle of whiskey as the vendor glared at him with hatred. From school I'd heard rumors of girls running to his bed just to hold a few pieces of coins. They had to be stupid girls. Who could let themselves get so low?

I rush past Cray's house, keeping my head low, towards my own home in the Seam. We'll eat tonight.

I walk past the meadow with its tall grass blocking the edges of the fence into the woods. Suddenly, a flash of a ball of yellow catches my eye. I lean in a little closer towards the grass and see a weed.

In the midst of dry, broken grass and pools of suffocating mud, a dandelion grows. I smile at the sign. May the odds be ever in your favor.

I meet Gale Hawthorne the following weekend in the woods. Every day since Peeta tossed me the bread and I saw the dandelions, I went under a small area of broken links and into what felt like freedom. I haven't been in the woods since Father died, and didn't think I could even go without him. I remembered where he hid the bow and arrows and decided that if I wanted to keep my family and myself alive, I needed to learn how to hunt.

And then Gale steps into my life. He doesn't feel threatened by my presence with him, but I do. Whenever we leave the woods together, I expect him to run into town and tattle to others that I'm poaching. Well, not really, since the only thing I can manage to take home are berries and roots. Animals are too fast for me.

Yet, he offers to teach me whatever my Father didn't. Or couldn't.

Day by day, week by week, month by month, I get better. Better than Gale even.

I see Gale at school whenever I go. He nods at me with a solemn, "Catnip," at my direction. I fight the urge to punch him for it, but he's the only one who can teach me how to hunt properly. Not often these days since I'd rather be practicing in the woods than learning how to mine. I don't need mining if I've got an unlimited supply of animals and fruits in the woods that are almost as unprotected as the Mayor's house. Although Gale's considerably handsome, he wouldn't hang out with the more popular kids of the Seam. He usually sits with a couple other boys and girls (even though most girls try to sit with him) that he probably knew his whole life. I sit with Mayor Undersee's daughter Madge, who talks the bare minimum. Like me. And I like her for it. Making friends at a time like now, that's unnecessary. All I need is to figure out how to hunt properly and keep Prim and Mother alive. In a few weeks, I will be eligible for the Reaping, which also means I can sign up for tessarae for the three of us.

I also see Peeta, more now than usual. I catch him glancing at me when he thinks I'm not looking every now and then, but he never mentions repayment for the bread. Maybe he's thinking about it. Maybe he's waiting for me to approach him first.

All I know is that I owe him my life; I'm just afraid that he's going to figure that out one day too.

 **A/N** : I hope this is an original story on this Fanfiction category; I haven't yet found a Hunger Games story about prostitution. Another thing is that, this story is currently Rated T, but will later become Rated M. I don't _graphically,_ per se, write sex scenes, since this is my first time writing anything like that, but you will see a couple floating around, lol. I'll try to update this story once a week; two at the latest. If any of you have read any of my other stories, you'll probably think I'm lying since I take forever to update those so wish me good luck!

Let me know what you think!

Extra Note: This is a re-written version. Old version can be found on my old account (which will be deleted soon).


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

5 YEARS LATER

Hunting isn't enough anymore. Every night as I try to block out the uncomfortable sounds of my family's hungry stomachs, I wonder to myself about when hunting wasn't enough anymore. I brought out the same amount of animals and fruits –if not more –from the woods every day. But money and trades I get in return in almost half of what I usually receive. Game is receding. Gale even tries to give me some of his share, but I deny it. If my family is suffering, his must be dying.

Only Mr. Mellark. He always manages to give me a whole loaf of bread just for two squirrels. Though I don't speak anymore than the number I've brought for him, I silently thanked his generosity.

And every day I pass Cray's home, the imaginary sound of a pocket full of coins clinking became more and more desirable.

I attend school as much as possible. Coal mining is my last preference, but with all the classes I've missed about the subject, I needed to make up as much as possible. Peacekeepers in District 12 are very lax, so they never complained when I dragged along game rather than attend school. With this rate, there is no way I'd become a miner until another six months. So with most of that time I spend in school, I avoid Peeta Mellark. I know by the way he turns his body towards me, after talking to his friends, that he wants to approach me. Say something kind to me. But I don't want any more favors from him. I already owe him my life. I don't need to owe him my happiness too.

Except, it's getting harder and harder. I can see the determination in his blue orbs when our eyes meet. I keep thinking, _this is the day. This is the day when I have to finally confront him_. The second he turns to another merchant kid that wants to talk to him again, I run. I sprint through the tiny hallway and down the steps towards Prim's side of the school. I can't talk to him. I can't let him talk to me. He's going to bring it up: the bread. And I don't know how to thank him.

Only today, he finally manages to catch me. I wish it was for better circumstances.

One of his fellow Townie friends –Librow, I think –disparages at me from his position by the school entrance. His greasy blonde hair hangs in front of his eyes like he's depressed, but his ugly expression says so otherwise. "Hey, Everdeen," he yells across the schoolyard, "wanna ride?" He thrusts his pelvis back and forth, waving one arm in irregular motions.

I ignore him since I don't have a sliver of idea what he's talking about, but clearly, everybody else does. Some Townie girls squeal and blush at his antics while most of the other boys around him burst out laughing. I stand stiffly beside the gate for Primrose, but she still has at least five more minutes for her class to finish.

 _Don't do anything rash, Katniss. Ignore them. Whatever they're talking about._ I stare at my worn boots as I take a stab at paying no attention to their shenanigans.

Although, I'm not the only one bothered by Librow's remark. Before anyone can react, Librow is tackled down onto the dusty ground by a large figure. A flash of blonde emerges from the brawl as both boys grunt from each other's punches. In the end, Librow is held to the ground by Peeta's hand clamped around his neck and one foot resting on his rapidly moving chest. There's blood trickling from Librow's face.

Another two Townie boys swiftly swoop in and drag Peeta away from the whimpering boy. I manage to catch a glimpse of a spot of blood on the corner of Peeta's mouth. He snatches his arm away from the boys. He throws an apologetic look at them, his face forbidding betraying his remorse over hitting Librow.

Peeta turns his head and our eyes meet. His mouth is open, as if he's ready to shout something in my direction, but closes it again. All I'm thinking is, " _Why the hell did he do that?"_ Over the years that I've watched Peeta (without sounding like I've stalked him), all he ever offered to anyone, evil or good, was a kind smile that said either that he liked someone, or he didn't want to be impolite. He never _attacked_ anybody.

I lean against the fence, my arms hanging off the edge, once again waiting for Prim. I'm glad she wasn't here to witness that. She always had a nice thing or two to say about the Mellark's, even though I don't think she's ever met them personally. I'd hate for one more person to be unwelcoming in her life.

No matter how much younger Prim was, I can't help but always admire her innocence. In a world where children slaughtered each other for the entertainment of some shallow people that'd never experience the pain and loss we suffer, Primrose Everdeen never in her life said a bad thing about the Capitol and its people.

Which once again reminds me that she's almost qualified for the Reaping this year.

A tap on the shoulder averts me from my revere. I whirl around with a smile to face Prim, but come face to face to with none other than Peeta Mellark. His eyes are bright and blue, his smile stretched on his face. Accomplishment is the expression I read on his face. "Katniss," he sighs. There so much serenity in his gaze, I squirm under it. I didn't think he even knew my name. "Hi, how're you doing?"

I take one step away from him, pretending I didn't hear him (fat chance at that), but he takes a hold of the crook of my elbow and gives a gentle tug. "What do you want?" I sneer. _Thank him for the bread before you mess up, Katniss._

"I heard you want to work in the mines," says Peeta. _What?_ That's definitely not what I expected him to say. His cheeks are tinged with pink. Is he embarrassed to talk to me? "Hunting's not going well?" He rubs his palms against the side of his dark pants and then takes it to brush the hair out of his forehead which only falls right back. What's wrong with him?

"None of your business," I mutter. I turn to walk away again, but his hand doesn't leave my elbow.

"Katniss, wait!" Peeta yells desperation in his voice. I look him straight in the eye as a clear warning: sum it up, or don't talk to me. "I – I wanted to make sure you were okay." I raise my eyebrows at him. _For what?_ "I do, I really do. What Librow said and did wasn't appropriate. He should have more respect for women."

I snort. "Yes, because all you Townies are bursting with excitement to respect Seam girls." What is said is true. Seam women are even less than the men, because they're "cunning" and "jealous." But I mostly say it because I honestly don't know what Librow did.

His serious expression falters. "But he…he shouldn't have did that. It was _wrong_ ," says Peeta, speculative.

"What did he do that was so wrong?" I ask peevishly. I want him to stop talking to me. I haven't got a clue how to say "thank you" properly. Chances are, he won't even remember that day.

His grave face slowly melts into something unrecognizable. Peeta drops his head to stare at his shoes, which I note has fraying tears running along the sides. He brings one hand to his mouth, his shoulders shaking.

"What?"

Peeta shakes his head, a remainder of a laugh still on his lips. "Nothing, Katniss; it's nothing."

"I'm going to go now," I say. I'll stand closer to Prim's classroom.

"I just –" Peeta continues as if I didn't say anything, "I just think you should be more careful."

I stop with my struggle. "Yeah?" Sarcasm. I haven't had to use it since I first met Gale. I never had to talk to anyone else in that manner.

He grins, happy that he got my attention. "Yes," he replies, "You never know what's out there." He pauses for a moment, probably pondering his next words. "Katniss, just … please know you're not alone in this. I'm here for you."

"Excuse me?" I bark. He's _here_ for me?

He realizes his mistake, but doesn't back off of it. "What I mean is that you may come from a bad place, but you shouldn't let that affect where you're going."

"Where I'm going is the mines." I snatch my arm back from him angrily and say, "It's none of your business, _Mellark_." I walk away with slight relief in my chest, but at the same time, guilt. Pain. I didn't thank him; I scorned him.

~HG~

Two days later, I am attacked by a black bear after I accidentally shoot her cub with an arrow. I deserve it, but I cannot die for a simple mistake. I have to live on for Primrose and Mother. For Gale. For me.

She bruises my thighs pretty well, but I catch a clear escape. Gale and I bring her down with our arrows, even consider her as food to last us possibly the next two months, but are quickly disheartened that she has trichinosis, a parasite, which would only eventually kill us.

The hope of finding the sizeable animal meat gives us a lot of hope.

But not enough.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Of course I hate mining. I didn't even know there was a _choice_." Gale unhooks his traps from a tall tree branch. The thin deer-skin bag drops to the ground with a thud. "Actually there _is_ no choice."

I nod, like I understand what he's talking about. I do, actually. Hazelle got her job by sheer dumb-luck. Even if I offered my services for free at any merchant's business, they'd still kick me out for trespassing. "Do you think they'd let me work without taking the test?" I inquire.

Gale sighs, stops what he's doing. "Catnip, that's why I've always said that there's two of us. You shouldn't have freaked out and hunted when you had to go to school." He climbs down the tree gracefully –years of unlimited practice. "We take care of each other. They're not going to let someone who's clueless as a merchant work in the mines. They can't take chances with accidents." He lightly flicks a strand of my bangs off my face. There's a twinge of pain in his eyes. Accidents don't mean any old bruise or broken bone. It meant explosions. Death.

"I've got _six months_ of information that I need to cram inside my head, Gale!" I whine, unusually. I almost stomp my foot and kick the dirt up. "We've been out her for four hours and the only thing we got is what _you_ trapped! Let's face it! Winter's going to take a hard hit on the animals this year. There aren't enough in the woods."

"If only the damn Capitol would send us a little bit more for tessarae, maybe we wouldn't need to hunt this much," Gale mutters under his breath. Although there is nothing except me and the nonexistent animals to hear him, Gale is still wary of his words. He's still not used to freedom. And for that matter, neither am I.

We both remain silent, but in agreement. Gale checks on the rest of his traps, which he finds empty. He sits on a rock beside the creek while I crouch to pull out the fishing line. Three fish. Awesome. With Gale's large and growing family, it's obvious we wouldn't be trading the fish for anything better. He will take two fish while I'll have to portion out the fish to last us two days.

I decide to leave first. We started to take more caution in our hunting since we never know when a new Peacekeeper will get sent in. Whoever leaves first and in the odd chance that one of us gets caught, we have to send the other a warning whistle to run.

Gale claps me on the shoulder. His usual smile is absent, a deep scowl replacing it. I awkwardly pat it. Gale and I are not one for physical show of affection. The only time he's ever hugged me was when my name didn't get picked from the first Reaping. After that, we keep each other at an arm's length.

His hand lingers for a moment, before he shoos me away.

 _It'll be okay, Catnip._

I leave the fish at home so Mother will get the hint that she needs to clean it out. I trade at the Hob with Merope Perthshire, the toothless woman in her early twenties. Rumor had it that her drunken father, a blacksmith merchant, beat her till the front four fell out. Her mother and she moved to the Hob later, but unluckily, Merope's mother quickly fell to illness. Ever since, she's been under the care of some vendor named Sae.

Although I've never had complaints against Merope's business, times were getting tough, and our bargain no longer reined fair. After a few minutes of arguing, we both step back from the counter, breathing hard.

"Merope, I have a family I need to feed," I say, ready to punch her out. That dumb pout on her face just makes me angrier. As if her world is crumbling all around her.

"So do I," she says snootily, "not _everyone_ here can walk into the woods and feed themselves whenever they want." Merope's spit lands on the lapel of my jacket, and I don't bother to make the effort of concealing my distaste.

I clench my jaw. "Yes you _can. Anyone_ can walk in if they wanted to. You just _don't_." Even though Gale and I go to the forest on almost a daily basis, nobody else followed suit. They still didn't trust that the forest, with some proper guidance, is a safe place to be.

Just then, Greasy Sae steps in, her face weary. "Shut it, both of you before I kick you outta here." She easily hands me four more coins and jerks her head for me to get out.

"But _Mama_ ," Merope whines, face beet red, "you can't just –"

Greasy Sae immediately grabs Merope's arm with fierce vigor. "I told you to never call me that, girl. Never." She lets go and see that I still haven't left yet. "Didn't I tell you to go home, girl? Don't need you loitering around; scarin' away business."

I skitter away quickly, not wanting to get any more involved with the scene.

* * *

That night with half the fish split into three, Prim dabs her mouth with the small corner of her napkin. Her face is slightly sunken in, her hair wilted. Yet, she still has a light glint in her eye, telling me that she's strong. She's making through it without a complaint.

Her voice is meek but her question is strong: "Katniss, when are you going hunting again?" Her question takes me by surprise. Although she initially didn't approve my methods of putting food on the table, she never questioned it. She never asked me when or where I went.

"I went earlier today with Gale; we'll probably go in a couple days, why?" I, too, wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.

Her eyes widen a bit as she lowers them back down to her empty plate. "Oh," she says," I didn't know. Sorry."

I nod to let her know that it's okay when it finally hits me. Primrose is asking me when I'll be bringing in more food again. She thought that I haven't gone yet. Because there's hardly any food on the table. Because there _is_ no food left.

I feel pinpricks stab the insides of my eyes. "Excuse me." I place the plate in the sink and go outside. I gasp into the chilly air, my hand tugging on the end of my braid. What do I do? Steal, maybe, from people's garbage, but how long until a merchant reports me to a Peacekeeper and expects something to be done? Then Prim would be alone to fend for herself. Gale, with his large family, could never include both my sister _and_ my mother. Not with the haul we're bringing back these days.

If my Father was still alive….

 _No_ , I stop myself. When everything falls to pieces, which happens a lot frequently than I'm comfortable with, my "if's" of my father's reanimation is the first thing that crosses my mind. I can't keep doing that anymore. He's not coming back.

 _"_ _I'm here for you."_ Peeta's soft, yet strong voice is drilled into my head, replaying every syllable until I can almost hear him whisper it in my ear. " _You're not alone in this."_ I'm almost tempted to wonder if _he_ would offer his help, but as if I'd go to him for that. Not a merchant. Ever.

In the back of our little house, I gather up a handful of mint leaves from my mother's garden and suck on them, draining the flavor and life out of them. I stuff more in my pockets so I can take them back to Prim in case she wants some. It's clear that she isn't going to come get it herself, lest she hurt my pride.

Only confusion resides in my mind. For years, I've been able to provide for my family. I never thought a day would exist when I couldn't. When there'd be no possible outcome except starvation. I could take more tessarae but that'd only increase my chance of being Reaped for the Hunger Games and that would only make our situation worse.

 _Peeta probably doesn't have to worry about any of this,"_ I think about him again. He's a baker; he _makes_ food for a living.

And of all people, he said he'd be there for me. For _me._ My heart clenches when I his words repeats itself again and again. _"For you."_

Not even Gale's said that in so many words.

I gaze out in the direction of the Town. Even as my whole heart shattered, I knew one thing.

I was all inevitable.

A/N: I didn't like this chapter as much, but I thought it was time to bring Gale into the picture. Let me know what you think! Review!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: This chapter is Rated M. It's not heavily graphic or anything. But if you will be troubled reading this chapter, I will summarize it for you at the end of the chapter in an Author's Note.

Chapter 4

I should've seen that it'd happen one day. I promised myself I wouldn't. I'm not…one of _them_. Yet, I still found myself in front of Peacekeeper Cray's house late at night, when nobody could see me. I'm the beginner whereas women like Misu Teeyer* stood there in broad daylight with a small bag ready for her reward.

It dawned on me once again that this was my final option when Prim passed the bakery beside me again. She slowed when she smelled the delicious aroma of sugary snacks and melted cheese on buns. I almost had to drag her away from the building so she wouldn't be tempted to run in and beg.

At home, Mother opens the cupboards to find flakes of cornbread from earlier in the week and a few rotten pieces of carrots. We carefully nibble on the ends of the blackened carrots before Mother erupts into breathy cries and runs into the bedroom. Prim, for once, doesn't go after her.

It truly is inevitable.

So I stand in front of the door, giving the smooth wooden door a light, but generous knock. A few minutes later after a sound of breaking glass and grunts, the door opens to reveal the graying man.

A slow smirk flows across his lips. "Katniss Everdeen. I was wondering when you'd come around," he says. "Always sneakn' around me with them poached animals." He opens the door wider to invite me in. "You're lucky I'm in the mood." He pushes me through his warm, furnished house towards a room in the back. His bedroom. He quickly shuts the door behind me, as if to justify that this is going to happen.

I assess the room with a large bed that'd fit both mine and half of Gale's family. There is a large portrait of a naked woman wrapped in delicately with red satin hanging over it. Fear slowly crawls up my spine. I shouldn't be doing this. I've circumvented the Hunger Games for four years now. That should be enough reason to survive. I don't need to do this. Except that I do.

I feel a hard smack against my buttocks. It stings a lot. I defensively hit away his hand. "What are you doing?" I ask.

"You wouldn't have stood in front of my house if you didn't want that." His voice is soft as if to flirt with me. Is it supposed to _work_? I wonder if he ever used it to the other girls that find themselves in his bed. "Come here," he mutters, wrapping his arms around my waist. I can smell the liquor on his breath as he breathes against my neck. He pulls me against him tighter and tighter, until comes to the point where my body feels completely paralyzed in his grip.

I struggle against him, moving my legs in any open direction. "What are you doing?" I repeat louder. I don't want this anymore. I don't want to do it. "Stop it!"

"Shh," he whispers into my ear before clamping his right hand over my mouth. "You wanna leave, girl? Fine, go ahead. But you go ahead and _starve_ , girl, 'cause I'm the only one you got."

Hot tears burn in my eyes as the realization hits me. Because it's true. I have nowhere else to go. No one else to take care of me. I nod my head and mumble a muffled, "Yes," against his hand.

"Good girl." His free hand rubs against my lower abdomen, slowly creeping down lower and lower into my most private area. He eventually finds my untouched lips; he rubs vigorously up and down, who knows to do what. The wrongness of what I'm doing makes me want to scream and escape, but the thought of my sister's frail body keeps me frozen. "You're so tight," he groans as his thick fingers forcibly push their way through into my center. I release a muffled scream. It hurts so much. When I feel something hard against my bottom, I wonder why I couldn't be stronger. Why I couldn't hunt a little bit more. "Turn around," he says.

I obey to face him, legs wobbling. He leans over and pushes me against his lumpy, featherbed. He quickly slips out of his pants, leaving his shirt on. He climbs on the bed, maneuvering me to the headboard. Why am I letting him do this to me? Because I've become dirty and desperate. Just like the women I promised not to be.

The soft sheets and blankets drown me as he positions himself between my legs. "Open wider," he orders. "And get rid of the clothes." I do so without saying a thing, just letting it happen to avoid further conflict. He then braces his hands on either side of my shoulders, angling himself at my entrance before plunging into me. I bite my bottom lip as hard as I could as he pounds against me, in and out, deeper and raw. The more I bleed, the more I feel like my insides are being ripped apart and then pulled out like a dead animal. When I see the green eyes of his and how every night, another woman has to experience this: it sickens me. I whimper softly, taking every stroke without a work escaping my mouth. I can only close my eyes and wait until it is all over.

When he finishes, he tells me to dress back and go home, so that he can take a bath. At this moment, I have never felt so low before in my life. I could kill myself right then and there. I can't do that. I _cannot_ do that.

Later than evening, while eating the meager meal I am able prepare with my newfound "wealth", my mother questions me, "How was your day?" I'm mildly surprised that she even acknowledged me. "Did anything interesting happen today?"

I stare at Prim from across the table; she licks her fingers after every bite, to savor the flavors. She glances at me and smiles. I turn back to my Mother and give her the same smile. "No, nothing happened."

A/N: Basically, Katniss decides to get money by sleeping with Cray. She didn't have fun. It sucked. MAJORLY. She goes home with money and food for her family, but she does not mention her new occupation to them.

*Misu Teeyer is an original character from a Hunger Games Fanfiction called "Saving the Boy" by Embracing-Immensity. Pairing is Katniss E. & Peeta M. I totally recommend this story if you haven't read it already! It's amazing, unique, and well-written. I really loved this character in this story and chose to incorporate her existence into my story with permission from Embracing-Immensity.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

I attempt to build up on the money from Cray with the trades from the Hob, but it's not enough. It's never enough. While Gale managed to land a job in the mines (since he actually had his mind set from the beginning to be a miner), I roam around in the empty woods, trying to shoot the rare squirrels. Every now and then, I find a small hole where some animals are hibernating, but that's all I seem to get. With winter approaching soon and our lack of food and a job, the fear of not lasting till the New Year stays with me throughout the night.

After the unsuccessful attempt at hunting, I rest against a large, barren tree, wrapping my father's jacket just a little tighter around me. Though it's been two days since that night, it still seems like a nightmare to me. I can't even begin to comprehend the fact that I let a man touch me like that; so roughly, so gruesomely. I never felt so ugly on the inside.

The Victory Tour of District 2's winner Medusa Pax completed with its usual feigned excitement. People go back to silently worrying about the next Hunger Games while they starve. Prim's birthday in a month will be celebrated with her first slip of paper in the Reaping bowl, and possibly some cheese buns to share between the Hawthorne's and us.

I already have 17 slips; by next year, it'll be 20. For Gale, it will be 42. With a deep breath, I walk home.

I take inventory of our remaining foods, dissatisfied with what's left. There's a can of beans and four eggs with about a week's life left in it. I cannot convince the Mine's Superintendent to let me work until I have the proper education and with food so scarce in the woods, there is, once again, only one thing left to do.

Holding my game bag containing an impish squirrel in one hand, I scale housing and store walls of buildings in the town as Cray's house becomes the sole building in sight. After last time, I cannot let him do that to me again. But what will I do? Cray is the only "customer" in the whole of District 12. No other Peacekeeper asks women to have sex with them. No other _man_ asks women to have sex with them.

Or do they?

I scurry away from the fiend's property towards the bakery. Mr. Mellark is probably waiting for his squirrel anyway. The bakery is more worn out than ever, coal dust imprinting on every fiber of the building. It's astonishing that it hasn't burned down to the ground yet with all those fires going on inside.

As usual, Mr. Mellark has a thin blue ribbon tied around the bell over the back door. That's our sign that the coast his clear from his witch-of-a-wife. Through the window, I see Peeta beside Mr. Mellark, shuffling sideways around a cake, a large white bag squeezed in his hand.

I'm oddly nervous as I make my way to the door. After Peeta's random outburst of "helping" me, I can't help but think about him. All the time. The very thought of someone – _anyone –_ aiding me in my time of need…it kept my mind off the evil man that dictated this District.

I stand on my tip-toes to ring the bell with the ribbon. Mr. Mellark immediately runs to the door with a loaf of bread beside him and awaits me with a friendly smile. "What've we got here today, Katniss?"

I open my game bag and expose the tiny squirrel to him. He has one hand under his chin, rubbing with thought. "I know it's not much; I'm… _sorry_ ," I gulp at the word. I don't apologize for things that aren't my fault. This time, it's different. I _need_ the bread the Mr. Mellark provides me with. "There isn't much game around this winter."

He's still scratching his chin. By this time, Peeta has come up behind him, curiously. He's been at a few of our transactions over the years, but he never made a communication of anything. He just stood and watched.

 _He's not going to take it. No bread. No food._ My blood freezes as I think, _No Prim._

Peeta sees my frightened expression for he steps up in front of his father to examine the squirrel. "We could make some stew with that," he notes. "It'd give us something to eat tonight. Maybe even last till tomorrow."

Mr. Mellark nods, eyebrows furrowed. "You're right," he states carefully, "we'll give you two loaves for it."

"What?" I cry. _Two_ loaves for an animal that is worth less than a quarter of that? "You can't do that!" What are they playing at?

Mr. Mellark stands up straighter, his son beside him with equal height. "Two loaves- nothing less, Katniss."

I gawk at the two men. They're insane. Completely, ballistic. I stuff the loaves in the inside of my jacket and I pull out the squirrel and hold it to Mr. Mellark, but Peeta takes it from my hands. His fingers linger a little longer, so I quickly snatch them back. He looks up and our eyes meet. He winks at me, grinning. I flush. My heart is thrumming like the wings of a mockingjay against my ribcage. My cheeks burn uncomfortably. I avert my eyes from his.

A familiar screeching voice disrupts the moment. Mrs. Mellark barges in with a rolling pin gripped tightly in her fist. "What the hell is going on here?" she screams. Peeta and Mr. Mellark visibly flinch at the sound. She stalks up to us, a deep scowl on her face, eyebrows slanted upwards in anger. "What are you two lollygagging for? We have work to do!"

I hesitate for a moment before I step back onto the crunchy grass off the deck. Mrs. Mellark finally notices me and her lip curls up in distaste immediately. "Didn't I tell you Seam brats to get off my property? Get!" She turns to her husband, who's still holding my game bag with the squirrel. She searches inside until she holds up the squirrel in her other hand. She immediately drops it. "A rat!" shrieks Mrs. Mellark. "You've been feeding our family _rats_?"

As I step further back, she throws the squirrel in my direction. "Keep your vermin to yourself, Seam brat!" She mutters more obscenities under her breath, goading her family back into the bakery. Peeta sadly looks over his shoulder at me and gives me a remorseful smile.

I leave the "vermin" where it is, and go home.

All I can think about is that Peeta Mellark has attempted save my life once again.

**Medusa Pax – I got this name off the internet because I honestly couldn't think of a decent name for a District Two girl :)

PLEASE REVIEW!


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: This chapter is Rated T to borderline M for profanity and sexual behavior. Thank you so much for the reviews! They really do make me happy and inspire me for the next chapters! You'll probably hate me for this chapter or you may understand why I did it (I know I'm keeping you on your toes!), but…what's done is done…ENJOY!

Chapter 6

Going home with empty hands is an adversity I haven't had in a long time. Mother's income on treating mining accidents is equivalent to zero. I only watch as my sister slowly bends her weary spine to match our mother's.

There is nothing left. We hardly have any furniture left to sell. Medicine is the last thing we have left worth any price, but that is too much of a risk to take. Apothecaries didn't come cheap in District 12.

Dixie Whishart reported on our old television that it will soon reach to be the coldest winter in almost two centuries. The closer the date came to when the last of our beans finished up, the impending doom of whoring with Cray became a reality.

The dark has come again. It has become my friend in the last couple weeks with all the sneaking and the hurt. My very core feels like it's tearing apart. Why did it have to come to this?

I cautiously rap Cray's door once again. The cold wind pushes hard against my small frame. I wish my father survived the explosion in the mines. Maybe then I would've gone to school and gotten the job. Then there'd at least be a higher chance of us living. I wish he was here to stop me. I wish I'd stop wishing for him.

I hear Cray screaming from the other side of the door. "Fuck you want, bitch?" I hear his muffled voice say. It creaks open. Cray's holding a tall, empty bottle of vodka in his hand. He's angry.

"You get the fuck out of my face, bitch. I don't need your kind humpin' around this place." My face is hot with anger. I want to punch him right in the jaw. I want to scream in his face, _'I have nothing else! I have_ nothing _else!'_ I hold myself back because if I get on the wrong side of a Peacekeeper – much less the _Head_ Peacekeeper – he would revoke my ability to hunt in the woods. He would take away Gale's secondary survival. I would destroy the foundation of the Hob. " _Get out!_ " he screams in my face.

I scramble back in the darkness through the icy grass and crumbling dirt road. I want to cry. It's not like anyone is outside to see me. I give myself permission to let it out. I feel dirty. I feel vile, a Seam Brat. I deserve that name don't I? I don't have money. Begging never works. Never. What'll happen to Prim? She'll never see her twelfth birthday. And that's good, isn't it? She'll never have to face the horrors of the Reaping. She'll never have to feel the guilt of relief she gets when her name isn't the one announced by Effie Trinket. Though the thought exists to comfort me, all that runs through my veins is emptiness.

"Katniss, what are you doing out in the middle of the night?" Mr. Mellark's soothing voice calls out to me in the endless dark. I feel nothing short of embarrassment. Of all people to have Mr. Mellark find me putting the effort to sell my body. I can tell that he's seen me walk from Cray's house. He knows what I went there for.

"Just walking," I reply quietly. I wrap the jacket tighter around my body. The filmy sheet I wore for a shirt didn't help anything. I didn't deserve this man an explanation. He's my business partner, that's all. "I should ask you the same thing."

He laughs. "Just walking. Clearing my mind." I know he's referring to the earlier event with his wife. I pity him for marrying such a terrible woman, but it doesn't last long. All I'm thinking about is food. Bread. Meat. Living. And all I had to do was have sex….

The thought pops in my head and I immediately want to slap myself for it. That's not possible. It's not even right. None of this is. But I still stare at Mr. Mellark ahead of me, ill-fated with a terrible marriage till the day he dies. Why not pay a little extra for happiness?

I shut my eyes for a few seconds to prepare myself. I've never done this before. Maybe I've seen Misu Teeyer do it a couple times before with boys at school in the back of the assembly room. I don't let myself think about what a terrible person I am. I open them half-way, letting what I hope is a seductive smile sweep across my lips, and let the jacket slide a little over my shoulder. "Mr. Mellark," I say. "Beaufort." I carefully roll his name around my tongue. "She's not treating you right, is she? Why deal with that? Take a break." I stalk carefully towards him, taking slow, deliberate steps. I can't afford to scare him off. "Have some fun."

His eyebrows furrow as he mirrors my steps backwards. "What are you doing, Katniss?" asks Mr. Mellark. He's confused.

Though it's cold, I let the jacket drop to the ground, revealing my fragile blouse. With one tug, it would fall to my feet. "This is your break, Beaufort," I say. I hold on to the neckline of my blouse, hoping he can see the curves of my breasts. Cray liked them last time. Maybe Mr. Mellark will too. I know I've got him when he stops moving. He's staring at me in utter confusion, guilt, and dare I say, lust?

"Katniss," he whispers harshly, "we can't do this! I'm not that kind of man!" Oddly, he sounds like he's convincing himself rather than me.

I lean closer to him. I don't exactly know what to do with my hands. My head hurts. My actions are catching up to me. _Don't do this! Don't do this!_ I reach him and rest my hands on his shoulder. I slide them down his chest, to his waist, and back up again. I feel the muscles under his shirt tense under my fingers _. I'm scared_. I stand on my tip-toes so my lips reach his ears. "Take a break," I murmur.

All resolve is gone.

~HG~

An hour and a half into our tumble, Beaufort gasps his head up from the hollow of my throat. He yanks his body away from mine, bringing his shirt and pants close to him. He quickly dresses and stands. The long meadow grass tickles my cheek; the wintry air stings my goose bump covered skin.

"Katniss," he moans in to the air. He's running his hand through his hair, a habit I notice that Peeta also did before. Except Mr. Mellark is clutching it in his firsts as if ready to rip them out. He keeps repeating to himself, "What have I done? What have I done?"

I roll off the grass, bringing my blouse close to my chest. "Mr. Mellark, I have a proposition for you." I keep my voice cold, detached. Like when we did business. He glances up at me from his arms thrown over his head. I'm genuinely frightened when I see he is vulnerable. I expected _him_ to know what to do. "I can keep quiet about this." _I cannot believe I did this. Why did I do this?_

"What?" says Mr. Mellark meekly.

"Pay me, and it'll all be under the rug." I sound just like I did when my father died, when people asked me, "How are you doing? Are you okay?" Emotionless. Regret.

"Pay you?" he asks. He stares me down with confusion and horror. "But…" Realization dawns in his eyes. "Katniss, you can't be. You can't be."

I'm not sure what exactly he's trying to say, but I'm sure it borders the line of me being a courtesan. "Unless you want it going around that you've cheated on your wife, I'd suggest you pay up quickly, Mr. Mellark. I hardly think you'd want your family to look at you so distrustfully." If Mr. Mellark refuses to abide by my rules, I could easily bring up a rumor to Gale or someone in the Hob. Even better, I could tell a merchant girl at school. That'd definitely spread like wildfire. And I don't think Mr. Mellark would rush to point out that I'd claimed him; who wants to add sexual intercourse with a minor on top of that?

With all these possibilities running through my head, I don't catch him when he dejectedly says, "Fine."

"Twice a week, price of two squirrels," I croak. "I've heard business for you has gone down, so I expect you to spare some." I'm a horrible person. I don't deserve anything less than a painful existence for the rest of my life.

Mr. Mellark, defeated, unable to do anything about my proposition, simply nods. He doesn't look upset about my proposal, more of that the pity in his eyes as he watches me with the thin cloth covering whatever I could. He pities my poverty. He kneels before me, hand resting on my shoulder. "Katniss, I am sorry. I truly am. I'm sorry."

By the time he's gone, I am dressed back into my long blouse and tie up my shoelaces. Not a drop of tear is allowed to be shed tonight. I won't let myself have the satisfaction of that. I crunch through the grass without a sound, unlike Mr. Mellark who sounded like a stampede of bears.

I stand outside the meadow, the middle ground between the Seam and the rest of District 12. In the Seam, I'll always be respected as the girl who wouldn't give up on life. In Town, I'll soon be known as the resident Whore.

A/N: The part where she considers telling Gale about it, she means she's going to say that she saw Mr. Mellark in the meadow with some girl (not her), just so she can get the rumor mills to start.

Please review!


	7. Chapter 7

A/N1: Thank you so much for the reviews! I'm glad you all are enjoying the story! I know many of you are upset that Katniss became involved with Peeta's dad and I expected that. But remember that this is a story about a young girl desperate to keep herself and her little sister alive whether the man she sleeps with is Peeta's father or not.

Chapter 7

When I walk to school with Prim the next day, nobody gives me more than a glance, except the collection of merchant kids who witnessed the fight between Peeta and Librow, gossiping about me.

I try to forget last night's circumstances, but when the loaves of bread appeared at our doorstep this morning, true fear coursed through my veins. If Mr. Mellark walked here early in the morning, obviously the miners off on their way to work saw him. But Prim's reaction to the food ripped away the regret. I would do it again, just for her.

The lack of rumors about my vocation did bring me relief. I still rather not have Prim or Gale know about any of this. Or anyone for that matter.

I settle into my seat in History, just as the teacher begins her lecture on the discovery of coal, years before the Dark Ages. I desperately want to slump into my chair and fall asleep, but if I don't pass the test in six months, I'm not getting a job. I roll my neck along my shoulders.

"…and they were amazed that something they thought was as useless as a rock suddenly gave them heat and light…."

Two pools of bright blue connect with mine. They stare at me with such vigor; I fear they can see right through me. They immediately leave, but return with less intensity than before. What feels like forever passes with just the two of us staring at each other, unable to form any words about it.

I look away first.

Only till the teacher dismisses us did I realize I haven't paid attention to a word she said. I'm six months and one day behind on the history of coal. Peeta's fault. I quickly skitter out of the classroom towards the cafeteria. I spot Madge already sitting at the table next to the trash. Most days, I sit next to her, both of us stoic with minimal amount of words coming out of our mouths. It's been a while since I shared the same lunch time as Gale.

Most of the lunchtime goes without a word, until Madge finally speaks up. Her face scrunches up. "You know that Peeta Mellark is staring at you?"

My eyebrows rise. "What?" _Oh no, he knows!_ I maneuver myself to turn and face him when Madge's hand clamps onto my wrist.

I stare at her in utter confusion. What's gotten into her? "Don't turn around," she says, her eyes locked with mine. "Unless you want him to come over."

No, I certainly did _not_ want that. I won't be able to face him after last night. With what I did, there was no way I could ever speak to him again. Yet, I did. I want him to explain what he meant by "I'm here for you." How does he plan on protecting me? Why? For what reason? I also want to apologize to him. I don't know why I'd even feel the tiniest bit of remorse when I'm helping my family. _Why why why why?_

I keep my head lowered on the bag of mint leaves, a thin slice of bread, and a handful of poppy seeds. Mother instructed me as a child not to eat them, but at this state, I cared less than ever before.

After school, I once again wait for Primrose by the gate. I still wonder how Mr. Mellark managed to walk all the way to my house with his Merchant looks and a bag of bread in his hands without being stopped in his tracks by a Seam resident. I still couldn't believe that I even _have_ plans to receive food like that every week.

"Katniss," Peeta's soft voice echoes beside me. I turn away from him rudely, hoping he'd take a hint. I'm here to pick up Prim, that's all. Not to make light conversation to the son of the man I slept with. Suddenly, I'm afraid he knows. He's probably here for his father to keep me away from the bakery forever.

"Katniss, are you mad at me?" I didn't expect that. I face him with slight surprise on my features, ready for him to change his attitude. "Did you want more bread this morning? I didn't know how much to bring, so –"

"What are you talking about?" I say abruptly.

Peeta's light eyebrows furrow. "You got the bread this morning, right? I was hoping nobody stole it since your house is all the way in the back and all –"

"That was you?" I cut him off again. So Mr. Mellark got Peeta to do his dirty work for him. It made a lot more sense why the bread actually made it to my front doorstep. I still felt a creeping anger at the thought of Peeta doing something without prior knowledge about just how _important_ and _wrong_ his actions were. _Don't talk to me!_

"Yeah, I felt guilty since you got the squirrel for us yesterday and we didn't give you anything in return. My mom kind of…stole the bread back. Sorry about that.

If it had been anyone else, I would've had to scream at their front door for them to pay me back. But not to Peeta. I couldn't do that to Peeta. Not after everything he's done for me till now. And I still don't know why.

 _Why do you keep saving me?_

Peeta's grin falters which falls to a frown. "I don't know what you mean."

I stare at him blankly. "I don't know what you mean, either."

The corner of his mouth lifts. "I keep saving you? I've never done that, I don't think," he says.

I balk at the fact that I spoke that aloud without even knowing it, but I'm annoyed that he rejects the idea. He should know by now. "I…I…" I quickly search my mind to think of something to say back. "It's a song," I answer.

Peeta's smile is once again blinding. "A song," he whispers to himself. "I haven't heard you sing…in a long time."

I tug at my braid uncomfortably. "When-when have you heard me sing before?"

"Ah, when we were both starting school, you came in with a red dress and your hair in two braids instead of one and I remember your hand shot up when the teacher asked us for a volunteer to sing The Valley Song. And I _swear_ that all the birds outside stopped to listen to your voice, like your father."

I feel an unnatural heat spreading on my face and my heart squeezes at the compliment. Somehow he still remembers something even I've forgotten. Somehow he knew that comparing me to my father made me put people on the positive side in my life. Why him, though? Why did I have to choose his father from every other merchant in District 12? Before I can say anything more, Prim walks up to us looking confused but pleased. "I have to go now," I tell Peeta, softly. I gently touch Prim's shoulder and turn away from him.

Peeta automatically reaches for my elbow again, but hesitates before he can touch me. "Can I walk you home? It's on the way, so…."

No. I don't want him to do that. It's unfair _. It's cruel, Peeta. You're asking me a very terrible thing. You can't be kind and welcoming for no reason. What do you want? After everything I've done to you, what the hell do you want?_

The screaming in my head must've put a gruesome expression on my face for he changed his words: "I'll walk you right outside the Seam, if that's okay."

"That's fine, thank you, Peeta!" Prim replies enthusiastically for me.

~HG~

I hate my life. I genuinely hate my life. There are most certainly others who have it worse than me, like having multiple members in the family to feed, but there is no possible way that the self-loathing I feel can be taken away.

Peeta tries to strike a conversation with me on the way home, and every time I cut it off with a curt reply. He gets along with Prim just fine, because she's always eager to meet and talk with new people. She even tries to stray the topic so that I could answer too, though I really wish she wouldn't.

At the edge of the Town, I finally stop to remind him that this is as far as he's allowed to go. Peeta smiles at me once more, boldly and waves to the both of us. "I'll see you tomorrow, Katniss," he says.

I nod, grab Prim, and walk away. After a few seconds, she struggles from my grip so I let her go. I peek behind me at the boy with the bread to see that he's turned the other direction, just standing there, his hand clutching at his chest, breathing deeply. He looks up at the sky, and it seems like he's laughing at himself.

 _How odd._

I catch Prim watching me, eyebrows furrowed. "What?" I ask her.

She shrugs. "I'm trying to figure out why he was walking us home." Prim looks at me again, and I think that she knows something about me, but I don't want to ask. I don't want her to guess anything about me, because if she ever saw me in a bad light…I don't know what anything is worth for. "I think he likes you."

I lower my eyes to the dusty, black ground sadly. "I wouldn't know a reason why."

~HG~

As soon as we get home, I clean out my game bag (I do this before and after hunting just in case there are any unfavorable microbes that could be creeping around), and head out toward the woods. Gale promised the last time that we'd meet again today, just because the weather report had informed us that today would be slightly warmer, although that seemed more fictional than fact. The chilly air still bites my skin sharply as I walk past the first mile of spindly trees. Halfway to our designated spot, the trees become thicker, perfect burrows for small animals to curl up in. I don't spot any scurrying animals which goes to say that I won't see them till the snow clears up.

I sit on the root of a tree; I set my bow and arrows on the ground. I wipe my face and breathe deeply. My head hurts so much. I want to tell someone about this; I want someone to help me get out of this. I want someone to come and save my family –leave me if they have to, but just save Prim and Mother. I bite down hard on my already sore lip, not allowing myself to cry. If Gale walks in and sees me like this, he'll probably have the power to make me confess to my evils.

 _I don't want to do this anymore! I don't, I don't! Don't make me do this anymore._ I didn't know who I was talking to. Maybe myself. Maybe the Capitol.

I remember Peeta's face looking up into the sky, so cheerful and filled with life. So oblivious. If he knew, I doubt he'd want to "save" me any longer. He would hate me and I'd be just another demon in deterioration of his life and family. Mr. Mellark made Peeta deliver the first batch of bread for the week, so what about the next? I didn't think Peeta was stupid; he'd figure out something was painfully wrong. To think that that boy might eventually hate me sent a stab of pain through my chest and head. Why his father? Still, he was the only merchant man I knew and luckily he made food for a living.

No, I can't constitute in any way for this to be right. It wasn't. It isn't.

 _I'm so sorry,_ I weep in my mind. _I am so sorry, Peeta, so sorry._

I hug my knees to my chest and wait for Gale; his presence would immediately have me turn into hunter-mode. Emotions have no key role in hunting. While I wait, I keep my ears open for the sound of anything moving, in the off chance that I might catch something, but nothing appears.

Not even through the next hour.

I already have my hands nestled tightly behind the backs of my knees to keep them warm, and still Gale didn't show up. Where could he possibly be? He said he didn't have work today, that he'd meet here. And he's never gone back on that promise unless he individually came and found me and told me he couldn't come.

What if Cray finally cracked the whip and caught him? What if he's ordering the other Peacekeepers to kill him? There wouldn't be any physical evidence other than the hole in the fence, but that wasn't enough –everybody knew about the hole. But everybody knew it was the two of us. They just didn't tell anybody since we provided for them. And no person in District Twelve would voluntarily keep information from the Peacekeepers if they threatened their family.

I quickly pull myself up and begin to run. I could feel myself soar past the trees, my body's memorization of its surroundings guiding me without falling. By the time I'm a quarter of a mile away from the fence, I hide the unused bow and arrows beneath a large inconspicuous log, about ten yards away from where Gale usually stores his.

I slither underneath the fence and from there I keep jogging into the Seam. My heart pounds in my chest in anticipation. _Gale, I hope you're okay._ After all this time, we've looked after each other, and he can't go down now.

As I pass through the Seam, towards Gale's house, I note that a little boy sits huddled in front of a house. I recognize him as Yohan Greebak. Both of his parents had died at the explosion and while he was sent to live with this aunt and uncle, they soon fell to sickness, too. No one else would dare take him in, in fear of his "curse." No one could even _afford_ to have another child in these conditions. The rags off his shoulders looked more like his summer clothes rather than winter; no shoes adorned his brittle, little feet. Although there is nothing I can do for him, I immediately see the child with a short braid, hugging herself from the cold rain, blocking out the pain of hunger. I _want_ to help him.

I search my pockets for any morsels of food left over, but I know well enough that there wouldn't be any on me. Through the faint guilt, I try to silently pass him in hopes to appear that I never even noticed him, but he raises his head up to meet my gaze. I whip my head away, but I can tell he's still looking at me.

I stop in my tracks to let him know that I don't have anything for him, but the way his eyes stare at me, freezes me. The horror of it makes mouth go dry, and the dull pain in my head to return. There's _nothingness_ in his eyes. Yohan's eyes don't give the inclination that he's begging for food or is starving. There's nothing _to_ look at.

It's the look of the boy who's waiting to die.

I start running again. I can't watch him any longer. Even I've never gone to that stage though death is sometimes the better option; I still begged and picked through trash on a bad day, but I never wait in the corner to die. I have Prim to look after. Then I wonder what I would be like if I didn't have Prim to care for. I look back at Yohan.

I'd probably become him.

The Hawthrone house looms in the distance and I sprint the rest of the way there. With the lack of commotion, I doubt that Gale is in any trouble. I sharply rap at the door, willing to break it down if no one opened it.

Thankfully it did. Gale steps out, shutting the door behind him and clears his throat. Gale looks over my shoulder as he talks to me. Never meeting my eyes. "Rory told me that you were walking home with the Baker's kid."

"What?" I spit out venomously. _This_ is the first thing he has to say to me? Of all things?

He crosses his arms over his chest as if to defend himself. "Just asking. It's a little surprising of course."

Since he isn't directly looking at my face, it becomes easier to lie. "Yeah, he was updating the deal I have with his father. They're paying me more for the squirrels."

"That's good," he says but I know better that he doesn't believe me. We're both staring at our feet and I'm slightly surprised at this. We've never had an awkward moment before; things were always flowed smoothly with us.

I suddenly remember why I'm here. "Why didn't you show up today? I thought something had happened, that you'd gotten hurt, or-or caught!" I steel myself to keep my voice from wavering. After all the tears I've shed, weakness is _not_ an option. Not for _anything_. "You could've told me beforehand."

Gale sighs and rubs his forehead, and says, "I'm sorry, Catnip; forgive me this time, okay?" He rests his right hand on my shoulder with a sad smile. "Things are getting a little hard now so I'm glad you're here with me." He pats me on the shoulder and I'm about to shrug off the embarrassment when he pulls me into his body. His arms are strong around me, holding me tightly against his warm chest. I panic a little. We never get this close. Neither of us ever initiated anything like this the entire time we've been friends. "Thanks for being around, Catnip," he whispers in my ear. I relax a little in his arms and breathe in soft woodsy smell.

The moment suddenly vanishes and I'm in full survival mode. The scene fully reminds me of my "time" with Cray. His grip suffocated me, tightening and gripping until the very essence fades away into a guilty memory. _"Fucking whore."_

I push harshly away from Gale, gasping in as much air into my lungs as possible. _Don't-touch-me-don't-touch-me-don't-touch-me-_

Gale just watches me, puzzled. "What's wrong?"

I wave him off, still catching my breath. "I'll see you next time, okay? Don't ditch without telling me." I pinch my temples to ease the rising pain. I'm glad I didn't bring up Yohan to Gale. I need some sleep.

I just never want to wake up.

* * *

A/N2: Thanks for reading! Please review! This chapter was 3,126 words without author's note!

I realize I've made Katniss out of character (and I'm pretty sure the other characters are too) but that's just my short experience of being a writer. Hopefully as I keep my writing "career" going, I'll get better and better of portraying Katniss in the correct light rather than have her seem weak, but this _is_ Katniss Everdeen in a different circumstance, so maybe this _is_ how she would've acted if she became a prostitute. Who knows? Let me know what you guys think of how I've characterized her. If you have some suggestions, feel free to send them to me through review or PM; I love hearing (…reading?) from you guys!


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